Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters of the JK Rowling book series – otherwise I would be writing this from a mansion with a different Ferrari to drive for every day of the week

A/N – So, you've stumbled upon my little creation here. This isn't my first rodeo here on , however it is a new author name I am going by. I removed my previous account and stories due to a personal situation, but the need to write continues to strike, so I'm back with a new name and new ideas. The title is inspired by the song "Wonderful", by Everclear. This will be a multi-chapter fic, within which I hope to provide enough context for the story to make sense to you, my lovely reader. Both Harry and Luna will be OOC in nature.

Most of my ideas, including this one, are based off my own real life experiences mixed with a dash of imagination. Hence, I hope my writing projects a sense of realism, as though the reader could place themselves in the story and understand. Without further ado, here we go!

Summary – This is a tale of love lost, and what it feels like to watch that love literally walk away from you.

Italics = flashback/memory

'thoughts'

"speech"


He can close his eyes and remember, as though it were only yesterday, the day he asked her to be his.

The warm night air on the 28th of June, the light of a full moon shining down upon them. He has traveled such a great distance just to see her that night, this very special friend of his, to sit with her on the steps outside. The clammy feeling in the palms of his hands as he manages to work up the courage to ask her out, the rush of pure elation when she does not hesitate to say "Yes".

Luna always had a very unique way of expressing herself, but on this occasion there is nothing but pure honesty and the slightest hitch in her breath at finally hearing the question they have both hoped he would ask. The connection first created years before at Hogwarts that had blossomed to a true friendship had now grown to become something *more*, for both.

A laugh nearly escapes him, dying in his throat before it can reach the rest of the world. For all of him being the Boy Who Lived, a Gryffindor, supposedly so full of courage, he had not managed to work up the guts to kiss her before leaving that night. Their first date would correct this wrong, of course, and he supposes that in a way his cowardice helped to create two extremely special memories. Memories that he has forever cherished, even now that they only hold any meaning for he and he alone.

Eyes snap open, forced back to the real world by the sound that he once looked forward to, now dreading it more than death itself. The sounds of wedding music reach his ears, even all the way at the back, in the very last row of seats where he resides. Everything within him clenches up, and he goes still, fighting his first instinct to apparate away. The half-empty flask of fire whiskey feels like lead weight in his jacket pocket, the missing half of the liquid turning over and over inside his stomach. Having not eaten anything for days leading up to this moment, it is a wonder that he has yet to reach the stage of being drunk – a point he had hoped to reach by this point in the day.

'Far too sober', he thinks to himself; 'I am far too sober for this.'

Yet as his hand reaches for the hidden flask, movement catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. Time stands still, as Harry feels himself freeze in place. The sight before him too mesmerizing to look away.

Luna Lovegood stands at the top of the aisle, mere feet away from him, arm held by her father. Glowing bright like a golden flower, Harry thinks, as he takes in the sight of her in a modest yet extremely beautiful white wedding gown. A significant part of him is shocked that Luna, of all people, has chosen to go with a traditional wedding dress – and he is almost relieved when he takes note of her wearing two distinctly different colored heels, the right being fluorescent orange and the left being a bright yellow. Even further, he cannot help but see that all 10 of her toenails are each painted different colors, most of them bright with one or two darker colors, as if to add some contrast. A smile nearly reaches his face, but never gets there. Frozen, he stands, as the music begins to play again.

'Count to four, inhale. Count to four, exhale. Count to four, inhale. Count to four, exhale.'

The mantra runs through his mind as Harry remembers to breathe, lest he pass out and make a fool of himself in front of everyone, let alone make them aware of his presence. Nobody, not even Luna, knows he is here. He had not responded to the wedding invitation he had received by owl, and indeed had not decided until that very morning to attend.

She begins to walk down the aisle, and with every step, Harry feels his heart breaking apart all over again.